


Covert Identity

by HandOfFlowers



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dubious Consent, F/M, Mobboss!Bellamy, PWP, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shameless Smut, Smut, The 100 (TV) Kink Meme, Undercover!Clarke, Yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandOfFlowers/pseuds/HandOfFlowers
Summary: Clarke's lowly undercover work should have never led her to the home of Bellamy Blake. But here she is with the most wanted man in the Northeast region, and this is way out of her leauge, but maybe she can leave here with some useful information (and hopefully her life).*orginally prompted and started at the 2019 kinkmeme
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 285
Collections: Bellarke smut, The 100 Kinkmeme Round 2019





	Covert Identity

**Author's Note:**

> For the person who prompted this over 10 months ago on the kinkmeme. I can only hope that you've found this and please accecpt it as some shitty reperations.

**THEN:**  
  
"Are you sure about this Griffin?" Kane looked down the conference table.  
  
"Is there really any other option, sir?" Clarke raised a brow, "It's not like we can send in Reyes, now that she's made national headlines."  
  
There was a scoff to Clarke's left, "Next time I'll be sure to keep the rescue of three missing girls as lowkey as possible." Raven leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.  
  
"All I'm saying is that I'm this operation’s best bet. There's no need to throw away our months of preparation when I can fit the requirements of the agent."  
  
"I recognize that you are capable of the operation." Kane began, "But I am apprehensive because last time we sent in an agent, we lost track of them when they moved up the ranks. And for someone who's never been undercover, that's a substantial risk."  
  
Clarke's lips fit into a determined line, "Well that's a risk that we're going to have to take, sir. Unless we can find a different agent, or wait months, fuck even years, until Reyes is no longer recognizable."  
  
Kane exhaled a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face "Okay. Reyes, make sure Griffin knows this case inside and out as much as you do. Griffin, be sure to meet with Shaw, he'll be the one making the drop for your initiation."  
  
"Thank you, sir. I won't let the department down."  
  
**NOW:**  
  
Clarke steps out of the car with a wad of cash and a farewell from Shaw. It's the second time she's seen him with the rotation of agents who have been making nightly drops so she doesn't actually have to earn any cash she hands over at the end of each night.  
  
She walks the few blocks back to the corner outside the rundown apartment where she's earned herself a place with the other women who are actually earning their keep.  
  
"Well sweetheart?" He asks with a leer. Clarke hands over her cash. He flips through the stacks, and makes a grunt, "Have you only been giving out blowjobs or are you that terrible of a fuck?"  
  
Clarke flushes and opens her mouth to defend herself, but can't think of anything to say since she doesn't even know if she's a good fuck, never going further than some heavy petting. Instead she turns to head upstairs where she can hopefully talk some more to other women. Her intel has been weak at best so far, and according to Shaw, Kane is considering pulling the plug on the whole operation.  
  
"Sweetheart?" She hears called after her, "You've got one more tonight."  
  
Clarke looks over her shoulder to see that he’s talking to her, "I already got what I needed."  
  
He nods to the car on the street, "You've been requested."

Clarke asses her situation. It's not like she can say no if she wants to keep her operation alive, but getting into that car might end up with her exposed anyway.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she walks closer to the car. It looks expensive. The windows are blacked out and even with the back window is rolled down slightly she still can't see in. She has no idea who could be in there.  
  
Shakily she reaches for the back handle and hears a call to enjoy herself. Sliding into the seat, she can tell there's a man inside, but can't make out any distinct features.  
  
"Drink?" Clarke shakes her head, "Suit yourself." She can see him lean forward, reaching for a glass and bottle of some alcohol. After pouring some for himself, he raps on the window dividing them from the driver. As he settles back in to the seat, the car starts moving.  
  
She concentrates on leveling her breathing as she watches the buildings pass as they drive along the street. Her attention is brought back to the man beside her when she feels a hand wrap around her knee.  
  
"I've been watching you." He squeezes her knee, and Clarke can feel her heart rate pick up, "I like to drive by at night sometimes." He takes a sip from his cup, "Always standing by the street, maybe one or two clients a night." Clarke looks down as his hand climbs higher up the thigh, "But Murphy says you're still able to earn your keep.”

Clarke furrows her brow at the comment, and glances over as they pass under a streetlight that illuminates the interior. She's able to make out his black curls and tanned skin, can even see a splattering of freckles that weren't in her file.  
  
Bellamy Blake.  
  
He's been the department's biggest target for the last several years. Her instructions were to gain more intel on the prostitution operation of his organization. She never imagined finding anything directly on him, let alone ever being in the same room as him.  
  
She tries her best to suppress the gasp that passes through her lips, hopefully passing it off as something akin to pleasure.  
  
His eyes flick up flick up to hers, narrowing slightly, "It makes me wonder why only a couple clients are paying you so much."

Clarke recognizes the look in his eyes. It’s the one she gives when she’s trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her or not. She knows that she'll have to prove herself to him or risk her cover being blown, or worse, killed.  
  
Batting her eyes, she runs a hand along the arm he’s got way to close to her for her liking, "I guess I'm just good at what I do."

She watches as Bellamy examines her. He doesn't make any move to further the placement of his hand. She tries to calm herself under his scrutiny, pouts her lips and pushing out her chest like she assumes someone else might do in this situation.  
  
They come to a stop, and Bellamy removes his hand, opens the door and leaves the car.  
  
Clarke turns her head to see they aren't anywhere near where he picked her up. The door beside her opens, and she looks up to see Bellamy standing in front of a tall apartment building.  
  
"Get out of the car." He motions towards the building, offering a hand.  
  
On shaky legs, Clarke takes his hand and stands on the pavement. She looks down the street to see it's pretty deserted. No one who could hear her if she called for help. But with his hand on her back she's being led inside and up the elevator.  
  
Bellamy doesn't say anything, so neither does Clarke. He barely looks her way as he keys open an apartment. She's trying to catalog as many things as she can in her mind, making note of the floor they got off on and apartment number.

Inside she glances around the room. She’d expect something a little darker, but instead it’s open and she’s sure it’d be bright and airy during the day.  
  
When she looks back to him, she realizes Bellamy has been watching her. She berates herself for letting down her guard and not playing up this cover. She's hardly behaving like a sex worker who was just brought into a lavish top floor apartment.  
  
"Do you live here?" Clarke asks, running a hand over a chair, and placing her purse in the seat. She looks over her shoulder to see Bellamy is still gazing at her. Calculating. Like a lion watching its prey.  
  
But just as quick, he turns and walks into a separate room, returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Setting them down, he opens the bottle and begins to pour. "It must be hard," he begins, "Spending every night working to make ends meet." He walks over and hands her a glass, "Pinot Noir." He says, taking a sip. "I would know, that was my life for many years,"  
  
Clarke tightens her fingers around the stem of the glass. She's familiar with his early life. Spending many years running lowly jobs to make money. The department assumes it was to provide for a sister who is now living in Utah with a husband and child. But managed to climb his way to the top, ties all over the New England area.  
  
"Wouldn't you agree? That it can be hard?"  
  
“It's better than nothing."  
  
"Drink your wine." His eyes bore into hers as she raises the glass to her mouth, letting the red wine stain her lips. "How does it taste?"  
  
Clarke swallows, "Sweet."  
  
Bellamy reaches out and runs a thumb along her bottom lip, pushing into her mouth, feeling for the back of her tongue. Removing his thumb, he sucks it into his own mouth, closing his eyes, as if savoring the taste.  
  
Opening his eyes, he takes a step closer, "And if you could have it every day? To stay here, and let me take care of you?" He runs his hand along her collarbone, wrapping around the back of her neck.  
  
"Here?" Clarke squeaks out.  
  
"For as long as you like."  
  
Clarke can hardly believe what she's hearing. Direct access to Bellamy Blake. Who knows what that would mean for her assignment, she would probably lose contact and the department would assume her lost or dead. This is so far out of her league, and she knows she should stay no. But all she can do is give a small nod.

He smiles, and his eyes shine like he's holding a winning hand. "You don’t know this, but I love taking care of people." He takes the glass from her hands and sets them down on the table beside him, "And I can tell that you haven't had anyone look after you in a while."

Clarke bites her lip, "But who takes care of you?" Placing a hand on his shoulder.

Bellamy grasps her hand, so tightly that it causes Clarke to cover her wince, "I'm so happy that you ask, baby." He brings her hand to cup his face, "I want you to be that person. Because if I'm going to take care of you, it'd make me so happy if you took care of me too."

"Of course." She whispers.

"Can I kiss you?"

Clarke pauses slightly at his request before leaning up to press her lips against his. He doesn’t move, content to just press his mouth to hers. But that won’t do for Clarke’s façade, slowly she opens her mouth, and as if it sets something off in him, his mouth is moving fast against hers, tongue begging for entrance and deepening the kiss, his hands coming up to wrap around her back and pull her closer.

One of her arms is still trapped between the two, and her body is too tightly pressed against his to even free it. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed she pushes at his shoulder. She's granted a reprieve when his mouth leaves hers and continues down her neck instead.

Gasping for air, Clarke stares at the ceiling. She wasn't prepared to learn Boston's Most Wanted could kiss so well. Or that the way he started palming her breast felt next to heaven. She needed to compartmentalize this. She’s supposed to be a working agent.

"Wait." She said, letting out a sound closer to a moan than she would hope, "We, I need-"

Bellamy pulls away, "What do you need baby?" He brushes a hand down her face, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out, and Bellamy tuts quietly.

Before she realizes it, Bellamy is hoisting her up and she has no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist. She lets out a gasp of surprise to feel that he is already hard against her center. But he must confuse her gasp with pleasure as he works his mouth back onto hers.

She can tell that they're heading down a hallway, and she hears him kick open a door. And next she's lying on what must be one of the softest beds she's ever felt.

"Look at you." Bellamy kneels on the bed in front of her, and Clarke scoots further into the bed, "You look so natural here." He leans over her, and rips the pillow out from under her, causing her to fall flat on the sheets, "You're my little pillow princess," He runs his hands up her thighs, pulling them apart and settling between them, "And I'm going to treat you so well, princess."

She can’t believe how fast this is all happening. Clarke tries to sit up on her elbows but is shoved back down with a hand against her chest.

Her dress rides up with her legs spread like this, revealing her underwear and Bellamy slithers down her body to get a better look at it, “Oh princess.”

Clarke thinks her heart stops when he buries his face between her legs. She hears him take in a deep breath before exhaling, the warm air sending shivers up her body.

But just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Looking down her body, she sees Bellamy sitting on his heels.

“Get up.”

Clarke raises her head, “What?”

“Off the bed.”

Clarke stares at him for moment before scrambling off the bed and letting Bellamy take her spot leaning against the headboard. He snaps and points in front of the bed and Clarke gets the hint to stand there. “Now take off your clothes.”

“Me?” Clarke asks dumbly but doesn’t get an answer. Biting her bottom lip, she pushes the straps of dress down her shoulder, reaches for her zipper in the back and lets the dress fall to the ground. Her cheeks are burning as she feels Bellamy’s gaze roam over her. She knows she probably isn’t wearing what he’d expect underneath, maybe he expected nothing, but it surely wasn’t her plain black set.

“Give me it.”

Clarke has no clue what’s changed from a moment ago when Bellamy seemed content to ravish her, but she dutifully bends down, grabs the dress and tosses it towards him.

He rubs the material between his fingers. Dropping it beside him, Bellamy looks back up, “Keep going.”

She can feel her heart rate pick up, and she’s sure she looks like some blushing bride as she reaches to unclasp the back of her bra. Sliding it off her arms, figuring he’d want this too, she tosses it in his lap. But he doesn’t even bother to take his eyes off Clarke as she pushes her underwear down her legs and steps out of them.

Clarke feels exposed under his stare. But he’s stopped looking at her body, just maintaining eye contact, like he doesn’t want to miss any emotion that could cross her face. She hesitantly takes a step forward, when he doesn’t stop her, she climbs on the bed, kneeling in front of him.

He’s not giving her anymore directions as her hand reaches out to rest on his thigh. She doesn’t know which is worse. At least earlier she could believe that he was making her do it, but as she caresses his thigh moving higher and higher, that’s all her.

She looks up to meet his eyes, but they aren’t revealing anything. Not breaking eye contact, she unbuckles his belt and pulls on the zipper of his pants. The only reaction she gets is when he lifts his hips to allow her to pull his pants down.

His arousal is evident, and the sight of it makes her do a double take. Even through the fabric, she can tell he’s large, and the little stain of his precum makes her feel a sort of way, especially since she’s barely touched him.

Swinging a leg over his, she straddles his thighs. Running a hand along the waistband of his underwear, she briefly slips her fingers underneath, but then trails them up his chest to the top button of his shirt. Making quick work of each one, she’s able to reveal the broad chest underneath. Running her hands over his shoulders, she pushes the fabric down his arms and helps wrestle him out of it.

With there only being one article of clothing left, there’s only so much time she can kill before she has to turn her attention to it. Clarke tries to prolong it by ghosting her lips over his chest and down his stomach, scooting lower and lower, but soon enough she’s faced to face with his boxer clad cock.

She peers up as she reaches inside, watching his eyes flutter when she runs her thumb over the head of his cock, smearing around the precum that’s already leaked out. It briefly makes her wonder if he’s going to use a condom or not. It’s not like she has any since she never intended end up in anyone’s bed, but he wouldn’t want to not use one with someone he believes is fucking random men nightly, right?

Clarke wraps her fingers around the elastic and pulls down. Bellamy’s cock stands tall and thick against his stomach, definitely bigger than any amount of fingers or toys she has used before, and Clarke is sure she lets out an audible gasp.

“What do you think princess?”

Her eyes flick up to see Bellamy watching her with hunger in his. She opens her mouth to make a comment, but nothing comes out.

“Shh, shh.” His hand runs through her hair, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“It’s so big.”

“And you’re going to take all of it, right?” His tone reminds her of when her parents used to tell her what they’d expected of her, whether it be what events she’d attend with them or her classes she took in college.

“I don’t know if I can.” She whispers.

“Of course you can. You were made to take a cock like this.” Bellamy tuts, “Maybe you need me to help you get ready. Is that what you want princess?”

Clarke slightly nods her head and Bellamy’s hand finds its way to her clit. He runs a gentle finger over it, sliding further back to her opening. “Look at that, my princess is ready.” Collecting her wetness, he rubs it back over her clit, pressing harder.

Clarke can feel her face flushing with shame as she moves her hips slightly, enjoying the feeling. She lets out a high-pitched whine when she feels her clit pinched between his fingers.

“You want more princess? Want something to fill you up?” Clarke nods before she even realizes it, “Well you’re not getting any fingers in that cunt of yours.” He rubs harder, causing her hips to stutter, “The only thing going in there is my cock.” He suddenly removes his hand and Clarke could cry from frustration. “Now c’mon.” He slaps her ass.

Clarke is breathless with tears in her eyes, being so close to something that she knew was going to be so good. Rising to her knees, she peers at Bellamy through her hair. Steadying herself with a hand on his shoulder, Clarke shifts slightly lower, feeling his cock at her entrance. Instead of sitting herself on it, she runs her slit along the length.

Clarke bites her lip at the delicious feel of Bellamy’s cock nudging at her clit, hating herself for reveling in the deep groan she elicited from the back of his throat.

Is she sure she wants to commit to her job like this? Is she really going to let the first cock in her be the one of her department’s biggest target while undercover?

Sucking in a deep breath before is useless when Clarke feels all the air leave her lungs when she sinks down in one swift motion, almost biting through her lip to prevent her from crying out. She feels like she’s being split in half, the end of his cock pressing so deep it’s like she can feel it in her throat. It’s not until Bellamy presses his hands to her hips that she even thinks to start moving.

Slowly rising on her knees, the slick between them makes the glide easier, but doesn’t make the stretch burn any less. Finding a steady movement, Clarke focuses on the man below her. She’s surprised to see his eyes staring at her face, assuming he would have preferred to stare at her body or maybe close his eyes and think of someone else. Uneased by his stare, and distracted with managing the initial invasion, Clarke realizes hadn’t even considered the seduction she should be pairing with this act.

Reaching for his hands on either side of her waist, she leads one to her breast, palming her hand over his, and takes his index finger from his other into her mouth. Closing her eyes and lavishing her tongue around the digit, she misses when Bellamy sits up, squeezing her breast and wrapping his mouth around her other nipple. The sensation causes her gasp, and he uses the opportunity to drive three of his fingers down her throat.

Clarke’s reflexes kick in, causing her to choke on the fingers but also to clench around Bellamy’s cock sending waves of pleasure up her spine. She tries to back away from all the intrusions and sensations, but not quick enough because Bellamy releases her tit from his tight grasp and wraps an arm around her waist, slamming her back to his chest.

She does earn a reprieve when he extracts his fingers from her mouth, running them up her face, leaving a trail of saliva across her cheek and he wraps his fingers in her hair, giving a tug that exposes her neck. With a pop, his mouth leaves her nipple and sucks its way along her neck.

The sensations are overwhelming, but only spur Clarke on to quicken her pace as she tries to settle the fire that burns all along her skin.

“Are you going to cum for me, princess? Squeeze your tight cunt around my cock?” Clarke can hardly breath as she drives herself up and down, the dirty words in her ear are making her feel lightheaded, “Come on princess, try and milk my cock for all it’s worth.”

“Oh god.” Clarke whines, digging her nails into his back.

“That’s it.” Bellamy grabs her hips, turning her movements into a deep grind.

She throws her head back in frustration, “No, no.”

“What’s wrong princess?” He asks with a teasing smirk.

Clarke can feel tears forming in her eyes, having gone on too long without any release, “Go back to before.”

If possible, he slows her down even more, barely even allowing her to move, “What do you want princess?” Desperate, Clarke tries to roll her hips, hoping to coax him into letting her get some friction. But his fingers dig harder into her waist, locking her in place and Clarke lets out a cry of frustration, “Say it.”

“Fuck me! Please Bellamy! I need you to fuck me _hard_.” Clarke begs.

With a growl, Bellamy pulls out, eliciting a whine form Clarke, and pushes her onto her back. She reaches for him to try and bring him closer, but Bellamy has other plans as he flips Clarke onto her stomach, before pulling her up to her knees flesh against his chest. Wrapping one hand around her waist and the other gripping her neck, he begins to thrust up into her.

She grasps at the hand on her throat as he tightens it slightly. She’s distracted by her concern of air that she misses when his fingers find their way to her clit as he starts rubbing tight circles around it.

She can barely move in this position, so she lets Bellamy use her body as he pleases. But the continued pressure on her throat is making her head spin and the pressure building between her legs is becoming unbearable.

Bellamy meanly pinches her clit, the harsh throb sending jolts through her body, at the same time he loosens his grip around her throat. Taking a gulp of air that sends a dizzy spin to her head, Clarke feels her body tense and lock up, and a harsh bite below her ear is what send her over the edge. “Bellamy!”

Her cunt throbbing with something still so large in her is a new sensation, and she can’t decide if she wants him to pull out or push in as deeply as he can.

The decision is made for her, as after a few thrusts he slams his hips as far as he can, and she can feel as he throbs inside her, letting out a deep groan into her neck.

He unwraps his arms from around her, and Clarke immediately falls to her knees, the changed position sending slight shocks through her body. And it seems Bellamy still has some more in him, as he thrusts a few more times throughout his orgasm, roughly kneading her ass.

When he pulls out completely, Clarke flushes, realizing she can feel his cum seep out of her without him to hold it in. And without his cock connecting them, she’s able to fully collapse on the bed. She closes her eyes, trying to catch her breath.

She hears the flip of a switch and feels the bed dip beside her.

Cracking an eye, she can see the room has been plunged into darkness, but a soft light from the window illuminates Bellamy’s face above her. Here he looks younger than she’s ever seen in any case files. He looks like he could fall seamlessly into her life, and nobody would look sideways at the man by her side.

Clarke swallows the bile rising in her throat at her thoughts, but not before he leans down and places a tender kiss on her forehead. She closes her eyes, trying not focus on the burning he leaves behind.

* * *

Clarke lies in bed for what feels like hours. But she needs to be sure that he’s asleep before she makes her move. She counts one hundred of his breaths before quietly pulling off the covers and slips out of bed.

Her dress is lost somewhere in the sheets, and it’s too risky to search, but she doesn’t really feel like walking around the apartment naked, and a little scared to see any reminders of her first tryst. Finding Bellamy’s discarded shirt, she quickly pulls it on and buttons it up. Tiptoeing across the room, Clarke looks back to see he hasn’t moved in inch and steals into the hallway.

She can barely see a foot in front of her, doesn’t even know what she’s looking for, but is too anxious to lie in bed and potentially let thoughts from the night plague her.

Walking back into the living room, she pushes open the door closest to the kitchen but only finds a closet of dish towels and random utensils. Clarke continues snooping the apartment, looking through piles of magazines and through cabinet drawers. After making her way through almost everything in the main room and kitchen, Clarke decides to head back to bed. She’ll have more luck when she’s alone in the apartment.

Down the hallway, her eyes have adjusted more to the darkness and she’s able to make out a doorway across from the bedroom she missed earlier. She tries for the handle, but it’s locked. Peaking at back Bellamy, he’s still asleep, Clarke pulls a bobby pin out of her hair. Lucky for her, it’s just a push lock and she’s able to open the door easily.

Inside reveals a tidy and sparse office. Clarke moves closer to the desk in the center of the room. A quick scan makes her think that there probably aren’t any paper files, just the single computer sitting on top. Too bad Raven isn’t here, Clarke bitterly thinks, she’d be able to pull whatever information they’d need in under a minute.

Turning away, Clarke looks at the bookshelf lining the wall. She’s surprised to find a vast collection of books. She runs her hands along the spines, trying to make out the letters in the moonlight. They feel worn from years and use, she wonders if they’re there for decoration or if Bellamy has read them all.

Suddenly the titles become clear as a bright light illuminates the entire room. Gasping, Clarke spins around and her back hitting and rattling the bookshelf.

Bellamy is standing in the doorway, completely naked with an unreadable expression.

Clarke opens and closes her mouth, trying to think of an explanation, “I was looking for the bathroom.”

“This door was locked.” Bellamy shuts the door behind him.

She shrugs helplessly, “It just opened for me.”

“How did you open it?” He walks towards her but doesn’t pass the desk. Clarke can’t think of an answer, so she doesn’t give one and Bellamy lets out a laugh. “You’ve been so sloppy tonight, you know that?”

Clarke feels her blood run cold but tries to maintain a semblance of keeping it together.

“Were you really their only choice? And especially for a whore?” He slowly begins to walk around the desk just as Clarke circles it the other way, wondering if he can hear her heart beating as loud as she can, “I mean, you sure fuck like one, but you need to work on your acting skills.”

Once Clarke is on the side of the desk closest to the door, she turns and sprints towards it. She can hear Bellamy run around the desk, but she makes it to the door first.

But it’s locked.

She jumps when a hand slams down next to her head. Clarke faces him, curling in on herself.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you calling out my name when you came around my cock? My name that I never even told you?” He grabs her chin and forces her to look at him, “And do you pigs really think I don’t know every operation that you’re planning?”

Clarke’s instinct takes over as she grabs the arm beside her while trying to knee him in his unprotected groin. But Bellamy is quicker than that, swiping her feet out from under herself and with one push to the shoulder Clarke is on the floor.

She rolls onto her stomach, trying to find purchase to get to her feet.

His eyes shine with rage and hate, and for the first time tonight, Clarke is truly scared. “Please.” She whimpers.

Almost like a one eighty, Bellamy’s hand on her face becomes comforting and his stare softens, “What’s wrong princess?” He strokes her cheek, but she tries to recoil her head out of his grasp, “Oh, no, no. Don’t be scared.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, “I said I’d take care of you. Remember?”

Clarke doesn’t answer.

“C’mon princess.” He gathers her in his arms and walks her back to the desk, lifting her up and placing her on the edge. Settling between her legs, he rubs his hands up and down the lengths of her thighs. He takes a step closer, his hardened hard cock brushing against her center. Visibly flinching back, Bellamy cups her ass and drags her up against him, “Don’t be like that now princess. Not after you just willingly took this cock in my bed.”

Clarke slightly shakes her head. She didn’t want for anything. She was playing a part.

“Oh yes princess.” He grins, as if reading her thoughts, wrapping a hand in her hair he tugs so she’s forced to look at him, “I didn’t make you do _anything_. You took off your clothes, you impaled yourself on my cock, and you begged me to let you cum. Didn’t you?”

Clarke lets out a sob hearing his words, “Fuck you.” She says venomously through the tears spilling over her eyes.

“You want another round already?” He raises an eyebrow, smiling as her eyes widen realizing the implications of his words. She opens her mouth to refute, but the only thing that came out was a strangled moan as he sheaths himself within her in just one thrust. “God, you’re still so tight even after taking this cock.” He pulls out slightly, adjusting her on the table before sliding back in, going deeper than before, “And I can’t tell if you’re wet, or if that’s just my cum leaking out of you.”

Clarke uses her hands to push at his chest, even pounding on it as hard as she can.

He grabs both her wrists, pinning them to the table. The computer crashes on the floor behind them but it doesn’t stop Bellamy.

Clarke briefly wonders if there was even anything valuable on there since Bellamy didn’t seem too concerned about it breaking. Was there anything in this whole apartment that could be useful in the case against Bellamy Blake, or did Clarke waste her time coming here?

“I tried to be nice with you, but if that’s how you’re going to act.” Grasping both her wrists in one hand, Bellamy holds them above her head and uses his free hand to smack the side of her ass.

Clarke simultaneously cries out and embarrassing enough, feels her cunt throb in response. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Bellamy.

“Should have known you’d like it like this.” He smirks, slapping the same spot twice more, “Desperate for whatever I give you, isn’t that right?” He runs his hand up under his shirt she’s still wearing, cruelly twisting her nipple, “I said, isn’t that right?”

Clarke yelps at the pain, “No!” She tries to dislodge herself, but it’s impossible with her hands being pinned above her head and Bellamy’s large body weighing her down.

Tears are streaming down her face, and there’s a pit of dread in her stomach as she can feel the tell-tale signs of her approaching climax. The harsh snap of his hips and rough table digging into ass only increase its approach.

“We could go all night princess, but I have an early morning. So, the sooner you cum, the sooner I can, and then we can both go to bed.” His stokes are hitting a spot so deep she knows it’ll always belong to him.

With a renewed desperation not to cum on his cock for a second time that night, she kicks her legs out and pulls her hands as hard as she can, screaming in defeat when she knows there’s no getting out of this.

A smile forms on Bellamy’s face that curdles something in Clarke’s stomach, “How could I have forgotten what my Princess needs from me?” His hand abandons its assault on her breasts, pushing down above her cunt, increasing the pressure she feels, grounding her waist to the table, and his other surprisingly releases her wrists, but quickly wrap around her neck instead.

For a moment, she’s so surprised he’s let go off her she doesn’t even move. But then he squeezes her throat, much harder that he had in the bedroom. Her hands fly to his wrist trying pull it off, and then she tries to reach for him, but he’s far away.

All she can do is dig her nails into his forearm and hope that maybe it’s enough. She can hear him chuckle at her lame attempts, but it sounds so far away. The punishing pace he’s set is constant between her legs, and then she can feel his fingers find their way to her clit. But they softly brush over it, yet it’s enough for Clarke’s eyes to slightly roll upward.

All the fight is seeping out of her body as each breath gets smaller and harder to take. Her hold on his arm goes limp as she begins to shake from the pure ecstasy, and when the pressure on her clit increases tenfold Clarke is sure she blacks out. Her mouth falling open, desperate to let out a cry she can’t produce, her toes painfully curl inward and her cunt clenches and clenches.

She can hear a voice matched with the vibrations against her ear. She has no clue what it’s saying, but the tone makes her feel warm and fuzzy, reminding her of praise she’d receive for earning a good grade or cracking a case.

The next thing she realizes is that she’s been placed on what feels like a soft cloud and she’s starring at a speck on the ceiling. She doesn’t hear any movement in the room and makes her wonder how she got here and where he went.

But she does flinch when something makes contact with her thigh. Jerking up, Clarke sees he has a towel, warm to the touch, and is wiping her legs. Evidence of his and her pleasure away from her body.

She stares at the side of his head, but he doesn’t once look away from what he’s doing. It’s not until he seems satisfied with his work does he glance at her. It might be a trick of the light, but Clarke swears his eyes soften for a moment.

His hand reaches to caress her face, wiping at the tears still on her cheek. He tosses the towel across the room and pulls Clarke to his chest, her face resting in the crook of his neck. She breaths in his thick scent while his hand trails its way up and down her back.

She knows she should push away from his embrace, but it feels so nice to be held after so long.

“It’s okay Princess, you’ll be safe here.”

Clarke shudders at the thought but tells herself maybe this is good. Maybe not having to hide her identity will make it easier to get the information she needs. She tells herself it’s the operation that’s the reason she won’t be looking for an escape in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> YIKES. well that's that. I really just wanted to get this done and far away from me forever. I have so many half finished WIPs, but this is the one that's been gnawing at me constantly. Hopefully I can tend to the other ones now.


End file.
